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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059622">journal entries</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hintofaspark/pseuds/hintofaspark'>hintofaspark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:06:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hintofaspark/pseuds/hintofaspark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>september</p><p>I got drunk on whiskey to chase the memory of your lips, but no liquor can ever compare to stardust.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>journal entries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>january</b>
</p><p>on new year’s night, I almost called you. Your contact is not on my phone anymore, but I remember your number by heart. This was after the ball dropped: at the count of three I turned and you weren’t there. You stayed up late to clean up with me once, years ago, today I woke up and the mess was already gone, just a stripe of glitter on the kitchen floor. </p><p>
  <b>february</b>
</p><p>the bunker is colder these days. There’s not enough blankets in this world to keep me warm. </p><p>
  <b>march</b>
</p><p>
  <b>april</b>
</p><p>
  <b>may</b>
</p><p>I read the worst fucking joke in the newspaper today, but I swear it would have made you laugh. </p><p>
  <b>june</b>
</p><p>I can feel summer building up, sticky and hot.<br/>
Baby’s leather is torture lately, so we try to research in the bunker as much as possible.<br/>
We caught a case a few weeks ago: easy, fast; we stopped at a diner on our way back, best burgers I’ve had in years. You would have liked that. And it had a patio filled with lights they turned up at night. You would have liked that, too. I would have brought you. A real date, and  we would have both ordered extra fries cause they are that good, but I would have stolen a few of yours anyways. You wouldn’t have minded though. Because you love me, and I love you, and I would have told you that. I would have told you when we sat down and you beamed at the place, when you couldn’t decide what you wanted, when you swatted my fork away from your dessert, at home getting ready for bed.<br/>
I swear, I swear, I swear I would have told you. </p><p>
  <b>july</b>
</p><p>I can’t even say your name. </p><p>
  <b>august</b>
</p><p>
  <b>september</b>
</p><p>
 I got drunk on whiskey to chase the memory of your lips, but no liquor can ever compare to stardust. 
</p><p>
  <b>
    <b>october</b>
  </b>
</p><p>
  I miss you. 
</p><p>
  <b>
    <b>november</b>
  </b>
</p><p>
  we’re moving out of the bunker in two weeks. We bought a fixer upper a few towns over, it has a big kitchen, four bedrooms, plenty of room for a garden. 
</p><p>
  <b>
    <b>december</b>
  </b>
</p><p>
  I wish you’d come back to me. Just one more time, to have one last Christmas, you never had a proper one, we never had a real one together.<br/>
One more snow day, one night curled up in bed.<br/>
One more dinner, and lunch, and breakfast, because that was always your favorite meal. I’d make you pancakes and eggs and we would have to skip lunch, actually. But that’s okay, because we could go for a drive: I want you sitting shotgun one last time, and rolling your eyes at the songs I like and humming along anyways.<br/>
One more spring day, and one more of summer where the heat is unbearable but nothing is as sweaty and hot as us lying in bed together.<br/>
One last date.<br/>
One last chance to tell you that I love you.<br/>
One more.<br/>
One more.<br/>
I love you, Cas.
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I honestly don’t know what this is, except for maybe the result of period sadness and summer storms. Not a native English speaker so sorry for eventual mistakes. Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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